Sweet Sixteen

I'm slowly growing older;
In two weeks, I'll be sixteen.
Perhaps, by now, I was sure
that there was still some hope for me
in a world that can't understand
or scratch the surface of faithful love;
Three years ago, I know I thought
that there would be some hope for me.

"What do you know?"
"You can't even drive!"
I don't need a license that
allows me to be wise.
Maybe I know better,
maybe I don't,
but maybe I'm smarter than the average girl.

I can't say that I understand
why guys love sex, or why girls flirt,
but I can say without a doubt
I know that'd only leave me hurt.
I've had my share of heartaches,
I've seen another way through pain;
So why can't I be heard at all
when they try to make my same mistakes?

I'm not a sage,
I'm not a fool,
but my faults are evident
to my prideful self.
Maybe that means
I'm wiser than most,
or maybe just that
I've misunderstood.

Maybe I know better,
maybe I don't,
but this side of Heaven,
it's hard to know.